Sense & Sensibility
by PSUbrat
Summary: Faith takes care of a comatose Wesley while he dreams of Fred...


_**Title:** Sense and Sensibility  
**Author:** PSUbrat  
**Rating:** PG-13 (language)  
**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to Joss Whedon and any other large conglomerate that he sells them to; I'm just borrowing them for a while.  
**Spoilers:** Everything in the Buffyverse up to and including the series finale of Angel.  
**Pairing:** Faith/Wes friendship  
**Summary:** Faith takes care of a comatose Wesley while he dreams of Fred...  
**Dedication:** ladystarlightsj_

**_Sense and Sensibility_**

Faith entered the narrow room at the end of the hallway, carrying a bowl of raspberries and a thick book. It was time for her to relieve Rona from her two-hour shift of keeping watch over their patient. As she opened the door, she took a deep breath to steady herself. Despite the weeks she'd been doing this, it was always hardest when she first arrived. Seeing Wes lying there so motionless and pale against the white sheets added to the eeriness of the room, which at the moment was dark and quiet, except for the fluttering of the chintz curtains in the semi-open window and the occasional beeping from the bank of monitors that surrounded the bed. The machines and the stark white walls made it feel like a hospital, and not the typical suburban home that it actually was. Despite the heat and humidity of mid-summer, the thought of being in a hospital made her shiver. She had to keep reminding herself that this was the only room in the large house that looked, and felt that way; beyond the doors to the room was a house bursting at the seams with laughter and life – even if the patient wasn't aware of it.

After setting her things down on the nightstand, she checked the numbers on the monitors. Once she was satisfied that things were normal and that nothing had changed since the last time she'd looked, she turned to Rona who was sleeping on the chair in the corner. A part of her was angry that the girl had fallen asleep. What if the former Watcher had woken up? Rona wouldn't have known or been able to alert Faith about the change in his condition. It took some major control over her emotions not to run over to the younger girl and shake her awake. Instead, Faith allowed her Slayer-side to take over, the side that knew that everyone in the house was tired and worn out. Ever since the apocalypse in Los Angeles, everyone was pulling double-duty watching the comatose man and patrolling, not to mention house chores and anything else that needed to be done. Living on a Hellmouth certainly had its disadvantages.

"Hey Faith," Rona said sleepily as she opened her eyes and stretched. "What time is it?"

"Time for you and Tina to clean up the kitchen and then go on patrol," Faith stated tersely.

"Sorry," Rona replied, almost blushing. "I fell asleep."

"No kidding. I hadn't noticed."

Rona became defensive at Faith's comment. "It's not like anything's changed. He's still sleeping." She looked over at Wes to make sure and then shook her head. "Besides, it's not like he's going to wake up anytime soon."

Faith took a step forward, folding her arms across her chest defiantly, but before she could reply, there was a soft knock at the door.

"Faith? Are you in there?" the muffled voice asked.

"Yeah," Faith responded. Where else would she be at this time of night? "What's up, Vi?"

The door opened part way, just enough so that the other Slayer could poke her head inside. "Willow's on the phone. She wants to know if there's any change."

Faith shook her head as she looked back at her former Watcher. "Still the same." It was hard looking at him this way, so fragile. He was a shell of his former self. She just wished he would wake up. But then what? She was sure he'd have questions, but would she be able to answer them?

"Okay, I'll let her know." Vi paused at the door before closing it, turning back to look at Faith and Rona. "Do you think he's ever going to wake up? Willow figured he should have by now…"

"I was just saying the same thing," Rona added quickly as she walked towards the door, not wanting to incur anymore of Faith's wrath this evening.

"He'll wake up when he's ready. Just tell her nothing's changed so far." She didn't mean to cut off the two younger Slayers, or sound so harsh doing it, but she refused to think about the alternative. Wes _would_ wake up and she'd be right next to his bed when he did. Not even another apocalypse could pull her away now. He had believed in her and was there for her – he sprung her from jail and told her to trust in herself. Now she was going to be there for him. She'd believe in him waking up enough for the both of them.

Faith listened as Vi and Rona quietly closed the door and walked away. Without another moment's hesitation, she moved the chair that Rona had vacated and put it next to the bed so that she could keep her nightly vigil closer to Wes. That and so she could read to him in a normal tone instead of shouting from across the room. Straddling the chair and then draping her arms over the back of it as she sat down, she reached over and turned on the small lamp beside the bed. The soft glow illuminated Wes's face and made that section of the room just bright enough to be able to read by.

Just about every night since Illyria brought him to the Cleveland Hellmouth for Willow to save, Faith had been reading to him, hoping that the sound of her voice would help him to know that he was around someone who cared. It was important to her that he knew that. He'd been through so much in the last year and she wanted him to feel safe.

Willow had been pretty insistent that they talk to him. She said that people in comas could hear what was said, they just couldn't respond, so everyone in the house who took turns sitting in his room should talk to him like he was awake. Faith understood that better than anyone, after being in two comas herself. Plus, she knew him better than anyone else there too, so she was the one that spent the most time in the room – day after day, week after week. After the first week though, she ran out of things to say; there were only so many patrolling or training stories that could be told without sounding the same. In fact, it pretty much was the same night after night: go out, kill the vamps, monsters, demons, or whatever, and then come home, go to bed and do it all over again the next day. After a few months of that, she totally understood why B had been so down on the slaying gig. At least Faith wasn't alone with her burden like Buffy had been once upon a time, before the spell.

After popping a few of the fresh raspberries in her mouth that she had brought with her, she began to read chapter eight of _Sense and Sensibility_ – a proper British book as Vi had pointed out. She wasn't two paragraphs into the chapter when she noticed him twitch and heard him mumble.

"Fred…"

For the last two months, the only thing that let them know that Wes was still alive, other than the monitors and his breathing, was the fact that every once in a while he'd moan or mumble Fred's name. It was heart wrenching, especially since Faith had really liked the young woman and knew, not so much knew as sensed, how much Wesley had loved her. Since Willow had left the Hellmouth for Italy to be with Dawn while Buffy was off in search of Spike, Faith was the only person left in the house who had known both him and Fred. None of the other girls could relate to Wes or to the sacrifices he'd made in life.

She felt a responsibility towards him. "Look at me all reformed and worried about someone else," she whispered to herself. "When the hell did that happen?" Of course she knew after Wes helped break her out of jail, after she stopped Angelus and after she became a role model for the other Slayers in the house and around the world. What a difference a few years made. If anyone had told her when she first arrived in Sunnydale six years ago, that she'd be looking out for people, caring for them and actually enjoying it, she'd have laughed in their face and then beat the shit out of them. She'd tortured Wes for trying to help her, hadn't she? She was too scared to let anyone get close. In spite of that, Wes'd believed in her. He was definitely one of the good guys. When Wood told her she was too close or becoming too attached to the comatose Watcher, she didn't care. All that mattered was that Wes needed someone and with Fred gone, that someone would be her.

Fred. Gone. Forever. Faith found it difficult to wrap her mind around the whole thing. Fred had been so perky and alive – a little too perky at times, but she loved life – anyone who met her could see that. It had been a huge shock to Faith when she'd first seen Illyria at the apocalypse in Los Angeles. She'd heard from Willow that some ancient god had taken over Fred's body, but until she had seen it with her own eyes, it was just words. She had wanted to hate the archaic being for killing Fred, but after watching it in action, fighting the demons and helping to save Gunn, Faith couldn't hate her, no matter how hard she tried. She especially couldn't hate Illyria after all that the being had done for Wes – for saving him from certain death.

Faith sighed as she sat up straighter and stared at him, his face showing no signs of emotion. She was reaching the end of her patience with him. He should be awake by now. According to the doctor that came by every morning, there was nothing physically wrong with him anymore – Willow had pretty much cured him with the herbs and the energy ball thing. So what was it that was keeping Wes from rejoining the living? Faith mused. And then it hit her. The answer had been there all along: Fred.

Standing up, Faith walked over to the edge of the bed and wrapped her hand around Wes's larger one. "Wes, listen to me," she implored. "You gotta wake up. You can't hide here anymore. Do you hear me?" She waited, watching his face to see if there was a reaction. Nothing. She squeezed his hand. "Squeeze back, Wes. I know you can hear me." Still nothing.

* * *

Wes smiled as Fred pulled back from the kiss. How beautiful she was, her skin glowing in the sunlight. She almost looked like something out of a vision. Young. Vibrant. Alive. He watched as she smiled that special smile – the one where she tilted her head to the side, looking shy, but not so innocent. It was the knowing smile of a lover. His heart felt like it was going to burst with pride, knowing he was at the receiving end and the cause of it. Oh how he loved her, body and soul. 

For nearly two and a half years his love for her was unrequited, but then something happened and for some strange reason, she saw him in a whole different way. Now that they were together, nothing would ever come between them again – not even that nagging little feeling that made him wonder if there was something he had forgotten…something important. Whatever it was, it would just have to wait while he enjoyed this moment with her.

"My darling, Wesley," Fred said with a sigh as she cupped his cheek.

He placed his hand over hers and returned her longing gaze. "That I am. Yours, I mean."

"Of course you are," she teased, as she placed a raspberry in his mouth. "Whose else would you be?"

"No one. There will be no other. I've waited far too long for this and I'm going to enjoy it. Now," he paused, pulling her to him and lying down on the blanket spread beneath the sun. They were in a beautiful meadow, flowers and perfect weather surrounding them. "Shall we continue reading where we last left off?" he asked as he reached for their copy of _Sense and Sensibility_. "I know how fond of Jane Austen you are…"

She sighed contentedly. "Yeah, I really do love that story. Elinor and Edward's love is so amazing. But it makes me sad though about Marianne and Willoughby. She almost died because she loved him so much."

"Yes, but in the end Marianne found true love, just like Elinor…"

"But at a price, Wes. She invested way too much of herself in Willoughby if you ask me. Basing all of who she was on how he felt about her. Forgetting that there was a life outside of what they had."

"That's what love's all about though, isn't it?" he asked softly, kissing her forehead.

"Not really. At least not to me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if you weren't around…if something happened to you…I would go on. Oh, I'd be sad for a while, devastated even, but I wouldn't be like Marianne. I'd probably be more like Elinor when she finds out that Edward is betrothed to Lucy, grieving silently while still living life. 'Cause even though it hurts, the world still goes on and you need to be a part of that."

Wes thought for a moment before answering. He understood what she was saying, but this wasn't something that he wanted to discuss right now, not while they were having such a lovely picnic on this beautiful day. "People react in different ways to the loss of a loved one. Some lose all hope and whither away, others continue to live life as if nothing ever happened…"

"And others hide away from the world in a coma."

He frowned at her last comment. "Yes, I suppose that could be the case."

"Wesley, not to be a party pooper or anything like that what with it being such a pretty day and all, but what would you do if something ever happened to me? I mean, you know, would you go on? Cause I'd really hate to think of you ending up like Marianne. That's not what I'd want…"

"Don't be silly, my dear," he replied, kissing her shoulder tenderly as he lowered the strap on her sundress. "I'm hardly going to think about it while I have you in my arms."

Fred sat up and then took his hand in hers. "I'm serious, Wesley, what would you do?"

"This is hardly the time…"

"No," Fred started, cutting him off. "This is a really good time. I need to know."

"Please, let's just lie here and enjoy the time together…"

Shaking her head vehemently, she squeezed his hand harder. "I mean it. I need to know what you would do if I – if I died."

"Fred, that's not going to happen…"

"Just say it did, Wesley," she insisted. "What would you do?"

Wes looked deeply into her eyes, wondering where all of this morbid talk had come from. "Why do you want to know this now?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I just need to know, ya know? Like something inside me would feel better if we could talk about this."

"What would you have me say? That I would go on? Find someone new? Start over?" As he continued on, his mood began growing darker, matching the thunderclouds that were moving in overhead. "Well I'm sorry, Fred, but I just can't tell you that. More than likely if anything ever happened to you, I would die." It was true. His life, as he knew it, would be over. He would have nothing to live for, nothing to look forward to without her by his side.

"Wesley, don't say that…"

"Why not? That's how I feel. If I ever lost you, I'd have no reason to live." His anger was getting the best of him. He didn't want to be feeling this way, but now his mind was joining in and screaming ugly words at him, words that told him that what he was seeing, and experiencing, was wrong. He just wanted it all to stop so that he could lie here with her in his arms, reading to her, kissing her, and making love to her. That's what he wanted more than anything else in the world.

"So what're you saying?" she demanded, irritation rising in her voice. "That you'd kill yourself? That you would sacrifice us being together in the hereafter just because you'd be suffering for a little while in the now?"

He frowned. "Of course I wouldn't kill myself, but a large part of me would die without you, Fred. First I'd go insane with the fact that I lost you and then I'd die of a broken heart."

"Wesley," she said softly as she moved closer to him, never letting go of his hand, "please promise me that no matter what, no matter what happens, you'll go on…"

"I can't do that…"

"Shhhh, just listen for a minute, okay?"

Nodding, he motioned for her to continue.

"I love you, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. I always will. No matter what happens, I will always love you. You know that, right?" Before he could respond, she plunged on. "I would hope that you'd honor our love by going on, by keeping my memory alive in your heart. Does that make sense?"

"It does," he replied quietly. "But I don't know how I would be able to do it."

"You'd find a way. It would be hard at first I'm sure with all the death and dying and stuff, but I know you. You're my big, strong man; my knight in shining armor. You'd go on and you'd find happiness again."

Tears came to his eyes and his throat began closing up. "How could I?" he barely choked out. "I could never…"

"Promise me, Wesley. Promise me that no matter what happens, you'll go on with your life and you'll forgive her for what she did. It wasn't her fault."

"Who? Who are you talking about, Fred?" He was beginning to panic. The faint tugging at the edges of his mind started becoming hard pulls, shattering his feelings of contentment and peace. His mind shouted that all of this was just an illusion – Fred wasn't really here because she couldn't be...

"Just don't blame her, okay. I don't. Not existing anymore is sort of a downer, but knowing that I'll always exist because you loved me makes it better. And please, Wes," she begged him. "Please don't blame yourself. It's not your fault that I died. It's no one's fault. Please forgive yourself and let this go…"

"Fred!" he cried, grabbing her and pulling her into his arms, holding on as tightly as he dared. "Please don't do this. Don't go away again."

She looked up and smiled at him with that smile again. "Wesley, my darling, I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be with you. But it's time that you went back to where you belong. It's time you moved on with life. She's waiting for you. Go to her."

"But I want to stay with you," he pleaded as he buried his face in her hair and breathed deeply, burning her scent into his memory. "Please don't make me leave."

"It's time, Wes. You gotta wake up now. I can no longer lie to you," Fred said as she morphed into Illyria and punched him.

* * *

"It's time, Wes. You have to wake up now," Faith demanded as she shook him. "Fred's gone and we're all really sad about that, but you can't hide anymore. Come on, Wes. Wake up. Don't make me hit you." When he didn't respond to her pleas, she slapped him across the face. The slap didn't even cause a flinch, so she wound up to hit him again, but his hand shot up and caught hers – stopping her just centimeters from his face. 

"Faith?" He managed to say, his voice hoarse and his throat sore and scratchy. "Why on earth are you striking me?"

Faith laughed and sobbed all at once with relief. "Wes! You're finally awake! It's about time." She hugged him tightly, her tears spilling down her cheek and landing on his arms.

He blinked his eyes several times as he struggled to bring his surroundings into focus. "Where am I?"

"Cleveland," she replied, squeezing his hand and smiling. "We've been worried about you." She poured him a glass of water and handed it to him. "Do you need some help?"

He shook his head and sat up enough to drink. The cool liquid felt good sliding down his throat. Soon his stomach grumbled in response.

"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked, taking the glass from him and helping him to get comfortable again against the pillows.

He lay quietly with his eyes closed, memories flooding him. "Fred…"

Faith's head dropped. This was going to be harder than she expected. It sounded like he didn't remember anything before the apocalypse. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Wes, but Fred's…"

"Gone. Yes, I know. Illyria killed – inhabits her body now."

"Yeah. Illyria's the one that saved you, you know. She did some time warp thing and brought you here to Willow."

"Time warp? I didn't think she was still capable of time jumping, not after I stabilized her," he muttered to himself. None of this was making any sense. "But how, why not just take me back to before Vale stabbed me? Why wait until I'm almost dead?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Willow says it's got something to do with keeping the timeline in order. I'm like the last person that could explain that to you."

"Of course. The timeline. If she changed something as significant as my death then perhaps something else would have been thrown out of kilter, something vastly important." He paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Wait, how did she know about Willow?" he asked with a frown.

Another shrug. "Something about accessing Fred's memories. She brought you here and warned us about the battle in Los Angeles, said that Angel and the gang would need our help."

"Angel!" Wes declared, trying to sit up, but struggling.

"Hey chill," Faith responded, gently pushing him back down on the bed. "Everyone's accounted for. We already had some Slayers in the area when we got the word and Buffy was on her way there…"

"Buffy? But how?"

Faith snorted. "She found out Spike and Angel were in Rome and never told her. She was pretty pissed off about the whole Spike being alive and her never being told about it thing, so she hopped on a plane and was on her way to confront them. Giles tried to talk her out of it, but then he got word that something big was going down in LA, so he made her take a bunch of the other girls with her from Italy. He even sent some from England. Good thing too. There's no way that Angel could have survived that battle otherwise. Dude, you should have seen how outnumbered they were."

"You were there?"

"Duh! Think I'd miss something like that? I was in my element," she added with a grin.

"So everyone survived?"

She hesitated and lowered her eyes again. "Not everyone. We lost a few Slayers. We thought they were ready to face the real thing; I guess we were wrong. They forgot what we taught them. But everyone else pulled through, even Gunn." On Wes's questioning glance, she added, "He was hurt pretty bad. No way Illyria would have been able to teleport him back here to Willow if we hadn't shown up. He wouldn't have made it. She saved his life too."

Wesley closed his eyes again and tried to process the information. It was overwhelming him. Illyria had saved him and Gunn, and then brought help to Angel and the others. It was simply against her nature to do anything so selfless. He looked up at Faith, his jaw set and determined. "Where is she now?"

"Dunno. After the battle she took off with Spike. B's lookin' for 'em now. Not so much for Illyria though. I'd love to be a fly on that wall when she finds the two of them. You shoulda seen her bitching at Angel after the fight…"

"Where is Angel?"

"In Europe with Nina. Don't worry, I'll call his answering service tomorrow and let him know you're awake. He'll be glad to hear it and probably come here as soon as he can. He's been calling like every other day or so to check on you."  
  
"How long have I been out?"

"Fifty-eight days. Fifty-nine today, but I guess today doesn't count, huh?" she asked sheepishly.  
  
"No. I would guess not. And you've been here the whole time?"

She nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. Except to sleep and go out patrolling. I sorta fell asleep in here a buncha times…"

He caught a glimpse of the book on the chair. "You fell asleep reading to me, didn't you?" he inquired.

"Well, yeah. Willow said that we should talk to you, but I kinda ran out of things to say so I thought I would read…"

"_Sense and Sensibility_." His eyes flickered shut. The conversation with Fred in his dream was starting to make sense to him now.

Faith began to fidget, biting the side of her thumb as an uncomfortable feeling of dread began to settle in the pit of her stomach. She felt like she had done something wrong. "Wes, can I get you something? Are you hungry…?"

As if seeing her for the first time, he instinctively reached out and grabbed her hand as she was getting off the bed to leave. "Please," he whispered. "Stay."

Nodding, she sat back down on the bed, her eyes wide with concern. "You okay?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm afraid not."

She jumped up again, worry showing on her face. "I can send one of the girls for the doctor…she just lives down the street."

"No, no need," he said, pulling her back down on the bed again. "I'm afraid that there's nothing a doctor can do for me right now. But I assure you, I will be alright knowing that you're taking care of me."

She smiled, a smile that everyone would come to know as one reserved especially for him.

For a few moments they sat in comfortable silence, not knowing exactly what to say next. Finally, Faith spoke, but hesitantly. "Are you sure there's nothing else I can get you?"

"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head and smiling weakly.

"I could read to you if you'd like…"

"Please. That would be nice," he added, moving over on the bed so that there'd be enough room for her to sit down next to him.

She grabbed the book and then settled in next to him. A grin spread across her face as she started reading chapter one of _Sense and Sensibility_.

_The End_


End file.
